Cassiopeia
by to-be-stardust
Summary: They cling to each other, as the next day arrives, curled up in his four-poster, his jammies too big on her slender frame. / or Ginny and Harry, after the war.


_Hello, Sweeties! This was written for the Doctor Who Appreciation Competition! [category competition], for the prompts Twelve, Amy, Rory, and Clara._

_Also, for percychased, because she loves Sara Bareilles, and I love Sara Bareilles, and that makes her cool._

..

..

Cassiopeia

..

..

The war ends abruptly, and people are everywhere at once, crying and looking for the dead. Ginny feels numb to it, like she is separated from the rest of the world by a diaphanous veil, the edges blurring.

Her family is not alone in their grief, but Ginny's eyes are dry as she looks upon the white face of her brother, the ghost of a smile still on his face. She knows that she will cry later, will sob ugly sobs, but for now, she is devoid of all emotion, and as her mother buries her head in Ginny's hair, she pats her back rhythmically, but Ginny's grip is loose and insubstantial. Molly goes to her husband as soon as she sees him, and Ginny backs away from the scene, feeling worse over her lack of feeling that anything.

Ginny feels like she is the lonely queen in the night sky, Cassiopeia calling for her lover.

..

..

Harry is waiting by the steps for the Common Room. He looks different, like somebody new, and Ginny realizes that the war changed everybody, and there was no way Harry would emerge as the same boy she used to love. The harsh reality of war could not be described, but Ginny thinks this is a good description as any, the look of bitter, angry loss on his face.

Ginny has been waiting all year to see Harry, but this is a different Harry than the one she knew like the back of this hand, but she's hoping he's still the same Harry she fought for, longed for, and really, she would love him however much he changed.

She is different too though, so she supposes that they're even. The battle in the castle had started long before Harry appeared again, it had started the first time somebody refused to learn the Unforgiveables, refused to listen to the evil that lurked in what had once been a safe haven. In a way, Ginny had been in her own battle, and she had survived a year of impossible terror. She wondered if he still loved her.

(She falls into his arms, and he holds her, and she knows that was never a question.)

..

..

They cling to each other, as the next day arrives, curled up in his four-poster, his jammies too big on her slender frame. Harry is staring out the window, and she knows that he was crying, and she can feel the tears that hadn't come pool in her eyes. The world is hard, and the sadness is finally catching up to her.

As the sun comes up, the window near the bed is awash in a golden glow, and it is too sunny for a day of mourning. Before she gets out of bed, she wipes her eyes, and rubs her nose with the sleeve of the shirt.

Her eyes are still red as she sits down at the Gryffindor table, and her hand does not leave the crook of his arm all throughout breakfast. George is not there, she didn't expect him to be. It feels wrong to chat with Hermione, like nothing happens, but mindless chatter is better than looking around at the bleak, desolate faces of her friends and family.

..

..

A week later, she gets mad. It came from nowhere, like all the sadness had turned into anger, just like that, she is yelling at him from across the kitchen table.

"I waited a year for you, and you still won't even tell me where you were!" (That is not fair, and she knows it, because she hasn't told him where the scars on her wrist came from either.)

"Ginny! I've told you, I'll tell you when I'm ready! You wouldn't understand." (That's a lie, and they both know it.)

"Of course, because nobody is worthy of knowing about the great Harry Potter!" (This is getting bad.)

He storms out of the kitchen, and her palms press into the worn wood as she looks down at the grains in the table. It is just after daybreak, and nobody had been up. Now they are, and Ginny flees to her room before they see her face. She doesn't know where that came from, all those lies and shouts. It hurt them both, and Ginny almost decides to go after him, but she falls into her bed and cries instead. She is feeling like the lonely constellation again.

He catches her eye at dinner and he smiles, and she smiles back a little bit, and they both know that they loved each other, and nothing could change that. But, there is still that hint of insecurity, but that flees when he pulls her to him, and they kiss like they will lose each other. _You never know,_ Ginny reasons.

..

..

The first night they don't fall asleep curled up together, Ginny wakes the house up with a bloodcurdling scream. She has the blankets tangle up in her legs and tears in her eyes, and the image of Fred falling to the ground imprinted behind her eyelids.

Harry is the first one to her, and everybody leaves as they watch him cradle Ginny to his chest, and her sobs cease. They are a long way away from being okay, Ginny knows that as sleep beckons to her, and Harry knows that as he puts her head down on her pillow, but they are on the path.

Years later, when they are married and in love, she will think of the years of waiting for recovery, and will credit it to the love of her life, her impossibility. Imagine, the only boy who could infuse her with emotion when she didn't want to feel anymore. She is a queen with a king now.


End file.
